The
wind wickedly sought to drag the linen from her grasp.
Cap'n Ira, hobbling around from the front of the house, hailed his
wife in some rancor:
"I don't see why you have to do that. Don't we pay that woman for
washing them clothes? And ain't she supposed to take 'em down off'n
the halyards? I swan! You'll be inter that basket headfirst, yet,
like ye was inter the grain chist. Look out!"
"They wasn't all dry when Myra Williams went home, Ira. And I don't
dare leave 'em out all night. Half of 'em would blow over the edge
of the bluff. The wind is terrible strong."
It was much too strong for her frail arms, that was sure. The
captain turned in anger to look for help about the open common. He
saw the two figures briskly moving up the road toward the house.
"I swan! Who's this here?" he exclaimed. "Tunis Latham, and--and Ida
May!"
His face broadened into a delighted smile. He had seen the _Seamew_
come in, and had prayerfully hoped her master had brought the girl
that he believed would be their salvation. This person with the
captain of the _Seamew_ could only be Ida May Bostwick!
At the moment Prudence was taking down her own starched, blue house
dress from the line.
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